


Now I Remember It Doesn't Take Much To Make Me Feel Small

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anorexia, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, Eating Disorders, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: birthday fic for my platonic soul mate where we project onto tim
Relationships: Danny Stoker & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood & Tim Stoker, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Now I Remember It Doesn't Take Much To Make Me Feel Small

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hangon_toyourself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hangon_toyourself/gifts).



> TW EATING DISORDERS AND WEIGHT MENTION

Tim Stoker was a happy man.

He wore what he wanted and he was loud and proud about everything.

That’s what he displayed, at least.

That’s not what he felt.

Especially the bad days.

He didn’t really remember when it started, but he remembers when it got bad.

When he passed out and the first thing he was Danny’s crying face above him.

When Danny spent hours with Tim at the table, talking to him and encouraging him.

And after a long time, he got better.

Not perfect, but better.

And then Danny died.

Tim, through some miracle, managed not to relapse as hard as he thought he would.

Eating was harder but more because so was getting out of bed, so he didn’t really lose or gain weight.

But for some reason, now was the point his brain decided it was time to look in the mirror and nearly punch it, and to look in the mirror and cry, and to step on his scale he buried away to the back of his closet and felt his heart stop at the numbers.

He looked in the mirror, his shirt was off and he stood only in his boxers, and he traced the stretch marks on his side, and the scars lining his hip.

God, he was disgusting, how did people even look at him?

He shook off the feelings and stepped away from the bathroom, grabbing an oversized shirt cardigan, and jeans combo that buried him in the size.

He walked to work that day, and didn’t stop for a pastry or coffee.

Work was slow, it was a Friday and all there was finishing up that week’s files and, typically, annoying Sasha and Jon to go out for drinks.

Soon enough lunch rolled around, and it had become an archival tradition to order in food on Fridays, and it was Martin’s week to pick.

Tim put on his best smile and sat on the taller man’s desk.

“Hey, Marto- What’re you plannin for lunch today?”

Martin smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Hmmmm maybe the cafe down the block? They have nice soup and sandwiches”

Tim quickly ran through his repertoire of calories he had memorized, chicken noodle soup was normally around three-hundred and fifty calories.

He could work with that.

“-Tim, Tim!”

He snapped back into attention to Martin waving his hand in front of him, concern on his face.

“Tim are you alright?” 

Tim chuckled and slid off the desk.

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry about that, just tired.”

He recognized the shake in his own voice.

“I’m here if you need to talk alright? We can order soon.”

He flashed a smile and was on his way.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A month passed, eating as little as he could, fasting for up to a week at one point broken only when Martin bought him food.

He felt like shit but god was he happy.

His throat burned with acid, he was cold and dizzy and he still looked the same.

He stepped on the scale and felt almost happy, but more so determination and a slight mix of anger.

He’d been “skinny” before, according to others, and by his height, he wasn’t overweight but he knew.

52.3 kg

Not small enough.

He sighed and slipped on the same jeans, t-shirt, and cardigan combo he remembered wearing the day this started, now ten times too big on him, and left for work.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say Martin was concerned is an understatement.

Something was wrong with Tim and damn if he didn’t find what.

Of course, he had some vague idea.

He just hoped it wasn’t.

Tim walked in, oversized sweater, looking sick, and eye bags that rivaled Jon in their intensity.

“GoodMorning Martin.”

Martin smiled at him, a sad smirk, Tim was holding a thermos, and he looked so… empty

“Morning, how’re you today?”

“Good, and yourself?”

Martin decided then he would take Tim out for drinks or invite him over for a movie.

“Just fine, thank you… Hey Tim? Would you like to come over tonight and watch a movie with me? I don’t like watching horror movies alone, Ill order in some food from the Italian place you like.”

Tim visibly froze and calculated his options, and Martin hated how he recognized it instantly.

“Sounds good, does seven work?”  
  
Martin nodded and they set to work for the day, inviting Sasha to come along, she accepted the offer and before they knew it, it was time to go home.   
  
With a farewell and a promise to see each other later, they were off.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim was fucked.

Astronomically fucked.

Martin invited him over for food and he was fucked.

He took a breath, first step was a game plan then decide what to order for dinner that was low-cal, then go to the gym and work out so he didn’t gain as much.

Hours passed, working out at the gym, and before he knew it was seven, time for hell.

He was at Martin’s door and he heard Martin and Sasha speaking in low and hushed tones, Martin sounded upset and Sasha seemed stress. 

I shouldn't be here.

He knocked on the door anyway.

Martins’s voice was muffled but he heard a quiet call that he was on his way, and for a split second Tim seriously considered running, but before he knew it Martin was opening the front door.

“Hey! Food’s inside!”

  
Fuck. 

He was ushered inside and sat on the couch, Martin handed him his food and a water, he felt the couch dip next to him on both sides, and was vaguely aware of Martin and Sasha eating their own food, he knew what was inside, it was what he always ordered, an alfredo dish, and he honestly couldn’t handle it.

“Tim? Are you gonna eat?”

Martins soft voice broke the dam behind his eyes, and before he knew it he was crying.

“I- I- I can’t”

Someone took the food out of his hands, and he was slowly enveloped in a hug.

“It’s alright, I know, it’s okay.”

He pushed off Martin, not being able to handle the thought of someone feeling him and he quickly stood up-

And then darkness.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Martin knew he was going to go down as soon as he stood up.

He quickly caught him and lifted him- god he was light- and laid him on the couch, while Sasha adjusted his legs to be on her lap.

“I’ll be right back.”

Martin left the living room, and grabbed a small juice box from the fridge, and he took a breath.

Fuck.

He composed himself before stepping back into the living room, where Tim was stirring, he stepped over and got the juice box ready.

“Hey, Tim, drink this, you’ll feel better.”

He kept his voice level and soft, non-judgemental, and calm.

Tim obliged when he was back to being conscious, he looked disoriented and cold, Martin wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and ran fingers through his hair.

When Tim came to and realized what happened, he shot up, but was pushed back down by Martin which he didn’t mind because, wow, were rooms supposed to spin that fast?

He sat up slowly after a second before the realization set in of horrific embarrassment of oh shit I just passed out and am laying on Martin’s couch.

“I-I’m sorry”

Martin shushed him and Sasha rubbed his back while he sobbed into Martin’s shirt, after the shorter man stopped crying, Martin decided it was time for a talk.

“Tim.. do you want to tell us why? We won’t judge you, I’ve struggled with it my whole life too.”

“I-I don’t know. Maybe because I’m… ugly? Because I’m not worth it?”

Martin felt his heart break, and Sasha looked close to tears, she pulled Tim close to her and was horrified to feel just how frail he was like that.

“Tim, sweetheart, you deserve food, I don’t know who made you think otherwise, but I’ll hurt them and make them regret ever talking to you.”

Tim struggled a bit, almost as if trying to get away from her but sunk back into her after a second.

“I’m sorry”

Martin embraced Tim from the other side, making a Tim Sandwich.

“You don’t need to be sorry Tim, just let us help you?”

He nodded and hoped they knew he would try.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is haunted-by-catholic-guilt


End file.
